


Not the Thing You Hate

by elrhiarhodan



Series: Wells Wank [23]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Eobarry, Grief, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation, Porn, Sex with Inanimate Objects, Slash, barrison, don't be afraid to touch your meat, eowells - Freeform, mmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 00:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: In the Time Vault, Barry lingers and grieves and lusts for what he can no longer have, and hates himself for that.





	Not the Thing You Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me at my tumblr [Obscene Circus Ponies](http://elrhiarhodan.tumblr.com/), and on my old school (and much beloved) [Dreamwidth](https://elrhiarhodan.dreamwidth.org/) account.

Barry sits on the floor in the Time Vault and stares at the wall, knowing all too well what's hidden behind the crazy Braille-like panels. He touches himself and tries not to think of _him_ , of Wells, of Thawne. He tries and fails because all he can think of are his hard hands and mobile mouth, the lips that smiled in approval and tightened whenever Barry had put himself into harms way. He tries not to think of the rough silk of his hair, curling riotously as if he can't be bothered with a comb. Barry touches himself, pressing hard against his zippered fly and wishes he had the courage to strip naked and do what he really wants. 

Instead, Barry imagines that he's not alone, that he's not in this strange, hidden room with its terrible secrets, but in a wide bed with soft sheets and a man - a friend and lover - who concentrates on his pleasure as if it's the most important thing in the universe. Barry tries to blank his mind against anything but the memory of Wells as he'd been before the betrayal. Of Harrison's glowing blue eyes when he'd touched Barry, stroking him with careful, worshipful hands. If Barry holds his breath and stills his mind, he can remember the feel of Harrison's fingers on him, slick with lube sliding, teasing, toying with his cock, letting the slick mingle with his pre-come, the coolness that feels so good against his skin. But Barry can't quiet his mind, he can't ever really forget the truth; he can't help but replace the sensations of delicate foreplay with the feel of fists beating him, of feet kicking him, of being dragged halfway across the city and knowing that this creature cloaked in red lightning killed his mother and destroyed his life.

And yet, Barry's cock is hard and aching because he still loves and wants and needs the man who made him. Who destroyed him.

This desire is a betrayal worse than Thawne's, because he wants Eobard as much as he wants Harrison Wells. He wants Eobard to take him like a beating, he wants those hands to be rough, and brutal, hard on his skin.

Barry whispers a command and the room reveals its secret - one of its secrets. The horrifying suit, on its mannequin, unanimated by a man who claimed to hate and love him, is a magnet for Barry's desires. He pulls it down and lies on it, rutting against it like an animal. Barry comes and he's disgusted with himself.

But he knows that won't stop him from coming back here and doing this over and over and over again. 

__

FIN


End file.
